Stepford
by You Can Call Me Effie
Summary: A Comprehensive List of Things Mary Sue Didn't Ask For: This.
1. Shrugadubdub not fucking here

Mary liked to think that her parents were laughing when they named her, because honestly, who actually names their child Mary Sue?

Nerds. That's who.

Joan and Gary Sue were very well versed in the world of creative writing known as Fanfiction.

Mary, not knowing this, had googled her name once when she was younger, gotten through half of a terribly written story, and had never done so again.

Not only did she not fit the physical characteristics of her namesake (she was too gangly and half blind and perpetually tired to), but her classmates, who were also nerds, were very aware of that.

Tragic backstory involving bullying?

Half check.

When she asked her parents why they'd named her something that would obviously get her teased in school, Gary had smiled serenely and Joan has ruffled her hair affectionately.

"You'll understand when you're older," they had said.

Their synchronicity and Stepford smiles had been enough to thoroughly dissuade Mary from asking about her name ever again.

She also started calling them the Stepfords in her head, but that was irrelevant.

From then on, Mary was as average as she could be.

She woke up, went to school, did moderately well, ate lunch, was harassed by nerds who actually knew what her name meant and liked to remind her of the irony of said name at every chance they got, came back from school, ate dinner, ignored her parents because she was an angsty teenager and most of her problems were indirectly or directly caused by them, went to bed, and repeated the process the next day.

Breakfast, in her opinion, was unnecessary.

Until one day, she didn't.

The reason?

Mary woke up in an alley.

Mary woke up in an alley in her sleep clothes.

Mary woke up in an alley in her sleep clothes in the middle of the night on her seventeenth birthday and Mary was, rightfully, freaking the fuck out about it.

 _WHERE AM I?_

 _WHERE AM I?_

 _WHERE AM I?_

 _OH MY GOD, WHERE AM I?_

 _In an alley._

 _WHERE'S THE STEPFORD PARENTS?_

 _DID THEY THROW ME OUT?_

 _IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?_

 _ON MY BIRTHDAY?!_

 _Wow, they're assholes._

 _I'M SORRY FOR BEING A BITCH!_

 _No, you're not._

 _PLEASE TAKE ME BACK!_

 _That's pathetic._

 _I'LL DO ANYTHING!_

 _That's more pathetic._

 _I'LL DO CHORES!_

 _WOAH THERE, LET'S NOT BE HASTY, HERE!_

At that point, she realized she was hyperventilating. She tried to control her breathing and started counting backwards from thirty.

Once she had calmed down as much as she was able, she began to rifle through her oversized hooded sweatshirt that had been her pajamas last night. She knew it was probably hopeless, as she'd put her phone to charge the night before, but the Mary Sues in stories always had some sort of weirdly lucky backpack or overly deep pockets that came with them once they were dropped into an already existing plot.

Apparently, instead of anything physically helpful, she got voices in her head.

 _Shit, was I kidnapped?_

 _Ha, no._

 _Where's my goddamned phone?_

 _Shrugadubdub, not fucking here._

 _Is this what the parents meant when they said I'd understand when I was older?_

 _How the fuck did you get to that conclusion?_

 _Guess what, mom and dad? I don't fucking understand!_

 _How the fuck did I even jump to that conclusion?_

 _That's what I said!_

 _Why would they name me Mary Sue, god damnit!_

 _Why are these your priorities?_

She sat up slowly and looked around, trying to assess the situation.

 _Yep. This is an alley._

 _Good going, Mary, you've managed to state the obvious yet again. What more can you do? I bet it's just as impressive._

She shivered, goosebumps raising on her skin.

 _The Stepfords couldn't've warned me to wear pants last night?_

 _Sigh_.

She stood up slowly, and then fell down again when a ringing started.

 _Shit shit shit, that's not my phone. And oww._

After a while the ringing stopped.

Mary sighed.

And then it started again.

She covered her mouth to keep from screaming and crawled over to the phone lying innocently on the pavement.

She squinted at the tiny screen.

Unknown caller.

 _Well, now I'm definitely not answering it._

She started picking dirt and questionable substances that she refused to think about off of her legs.

 _I mean, I wouldn't have answered it anyway, but this has solidified my resolve to not answer it._

After the last ring, a message started playing. "Mary? Mary, this is your parents, can you-"

Mary picked it up and clicked answer, holding the phone to her ear and ignoring the fact that currently only landlines have the type of system necessary for the message to have gone through. "Mom? Dad? Where are you?"

Gary sighed in relief and chuckled lightly. "I believe the question is where are you?"

Mary clenched her teeth and fought back a sudden urge to cry. "I'm in an alley, dad."

There was a silence. "...Diagon Alley?"

Mary clenched her teeth. "No. An alley. An honest to god, beware of rapists and hobos alley. Get me out."

There was a moment before her mother spoke into the phone. "Mary, dear, we're going to need you to get out of the alley and assess the area."

"I'm in my pajamas!"

"Yes, and you are in an alley. The sooner you get out, the sooner you can get yourself some pants."

Mary grumbled. "Maybe if you had warned me, I would already be wearing pants."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

Mary braced herself, stood up slowly, and then poked her head out of the alley. She was met with a very artificially lit up street.

She glanced around quickly, eyes pausing on a group of prostitutes around the corner.

She tried to read the signs, but like a normal person, she didn't go to sleep wearing her glasses, so it was a lost cause.

"Mary?"She jumped slightly and backed into the alley again. "It's a really lit up street, but I can't see the signs."

"Uh, isn't that a shame?"

She turned around quickly and backed toward the opening when she saw who had surprised her. "What-"

"Shh, toots, no need to be uh-larmed. I just, ah, wanna have some fun with you."

Mary resisted the urge to vomit and held up a finger, raising her phone slowly and shakily to her face.

He looked at her in mocking amusement and did the universal signal for 'take your time', then turned away, playing with a knife that was suddenly in his hand and humming to give her an illusion of privacy.

"Mary? Mary, who's there with you?"

Once she could speak, she spoke in a voice that strained for monotony. She ignored the question. "Since I probably won't ever see or talk to either of you again, I would like you both to know that I love you and that this is all your fault."

"Mary-"

She hung up and put the phone in her pocket, then lowered her finger. She stared at the man in front of her, who was still humming disjointedly. She would've found it adorable if he was a child instead of a serial killing clown and she wasn't scared out of her pants in an alley with him.

 ** _No pun intended._**

 _Who the fuck are you?_

 _Never mind that, what even was that analogy?_

 _Was it an analogy?_

 _ **Haha, anal.**_

 _Not the fucking time._

 ** _Haha, fucking time._**

 _Urgh._

He turned back toward her and bared his teeth in what in no way could be described as a smile.

She forced up some bravado before deciding it would be useless anyway and slumping to the floor.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "I know my, uh,... reputation precedes me, but I was an- _tic_ -ipating something a little more, uh... entertaining."

 _Sorry to disappoint, Clownfish._

 _...Clownfish?_

 _I AM UNDER EMENSE EMOTIONAL DURESS!_

 _Shit, no need to yell._

She kept her mouth shut.

He sighed and began playing with a different knife he'd procured from somewhere in his suit. " _You_... Are no fun. I expected you to be fun."

And now she was annoyed.

 _Is he serious?_

 ** _...Why so serious?_**

 _Shut the fuck up, voice number three._

 ** _Sorry._**

 _But is this boy honestly complaining about me being no fun?_

 _Don't do it, Mary._

 _In this current situation that I am in?_

 _Don't do it, Mary!_

 _In which I literally woke up in an alley with a fucking clown?_

 _DON'T-_

She spoke calmly. "Was it the pantlessness that gave you that impression?"

He looked mildly intrigued. "What?"

 _You fucking did it, Mary._

Mary stood up, keeping her eyes averted from his face and paced back and forth in her sweatshirt and underwear, probably catching hypothermia and twitching all the while.

 _What are you doing, Mary? Sit your ass down._

 _Nope._

She continued shakily. "Or-or was it the overwhelming aura of 'what the fuck is going on' that surrounds my very being, huh?"

"You're loony."

She snapped her head toward him. "Just call me Lovegood!"

He let out a snort.

She stumbled toward him, trying and failing to avoid all the broken glass as she spoke. "Fuck! Ow! Was it the perfect glimmer of my half-blind eyes filled with tears of frustration or the shimmery hair that should be golden if I could just live up to my goddamn name but is currently brown and looks like a cat shredded a sofa cushion on my head?"

 _Mary, what the fuck?_

He started to laugh.

She snapped her teeth and got in his face. "Stop laughing at me! What was it about me, little old Mary with her pjs and her blue lips, that made you think I'd be entertaining? I wanna know so I can change it immediately and would you STOP GRINNING AT ME like an IDIOT you FUCKING CREEP?"

She pushed him roughly against the alley wall.

 ** _OOOH SHIT!_**

 _SHUT THE FUCK UP, VOICE NUMBER THREE._

He stopped laughing abruptly and looked at her darkly and unblinkingly, licking at the insides of his scars. Mary was so unnerved at the fact that she had effectively just signed her own death warrant by yelling at the Joker, of all people, that she laughed so that she wouldn't scream.

That didn't stop the tears.

She backed away from him and cackled, loudly and absurdly and frustratedly and mockingly.

 _...Goddamnit, Mary._

He pushed her against the opposite wall and held a knife to her throat, finally annoyed enough to act. "You might wanna, uh... shut that massive gob up, Lovegood."

She grimaced, keeping her eyes on the knife so that she wouldn't have to look at his face. "My name's not actually Lovegood, Bozo."

 _You really fucked up this time, Mary._

 _No fucking shit._

He sliced a line into her shoulder nonchalantly, cutting through the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "Its, ah, bet- _ter_ than Mary."

She grunted in both pain and agreement and clenched her teeth. _Fuck you, fuck you, fuck your parents, fuck your knives, fuck whoever made these fucking comics in the first place, fuck you._

 ** _We're gonna die._**

 _Don't think about it._

She met his eyes. "You ruined my sweatshirt."

"What are you gonna do about it, Lovegood?"

She twitched, ignored the fact that he still held a knife to her and threw herself at him.

There was now a knife lodged in her shoulder.

She couldn't move her left arm.

In hindsight, this was probably not one of her smartest ideas.

 _Actually, even in foresight, that was a shitty idea._

 _SHUT UP._

She screamed and slumped against the wall. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU OVERGROWN COCKROACH! YOU-"

He cackled and brandished a new knife at her. "YOU are TOO LOUD! I can't hear myself think!"

She ducked and tried to avoid it, getting a small ish cut on her cheek for her troubles. "OH BOO FUCKING HOO YOU WORTHLESS EXCUSE FOR A-!"

And then the Joker was on the ground and a man in a bat suit was on top of him.

Mary felt many emotions go through her in that moment; terror, irritation, pain from the various cuts on her body along with the knife still lodged in her shoulder that she couldn't remove yet for fear of bleeding out in a fictional alley. She decided to settle on being heavily exasperated and on the verge of a slight mental breakdown and carefully maneuvered herself away from the fight going on in front of her. She held her shoulder still and waited.

 ** _Why are we waiting? What are we waiting for?_**

 _An ambulance?_

 _Who's gonna call an ambulance? This is Crime Alley. They've learned not to come here._

 _Well, sorry for being the only one here who wants to help._

 _Shut the fuck up, Mary, you tried to tackle a psychopathic clown who had a knife to you._

 _And apparently caught his insanity through a knife wound._

 ** _Is insanity contagious?_**

 _According to the voices in my head, apparently._

 _We've literally been here the whole time._

 _Shhh_.

 ** _It's Gotham, Mary. Actual Gotham.  
_**

 _You're right, Voice Number Three. You have to be insane to survive in Gotham._

 ** _Bruce Wayne isn't insane._**

 _He runs around fighting crime in an animal costume._

Mary rubbed her temple. _Will you all be quiet? I've had you for all of five minutes and you're already driving me crazy!_

 _...She says to the voices in her head._

 _ **Also, do you not understand the concept of time, or...?**_

Mary smacked her head against the wall and groaned. "Shut up!"

 _ **Add that to the list of injuries.**_

 _Why you little-_

A throat cleared.

Mary slowly looked up to meet the Batman's eyes and raised both eyebrows. "Howdy."

"Are you injured?"

She looked at him like he was an idiot and glanced carefully at the knife embedded in her shoulder, then to her foot, and then back up at him. "Nope."

He looked at her impassively. "There's a cut on your foot. Can you walk?"

 _He noticed the cut but not the literal knife sticking out of me?_

 _I'm sure he noticed the knife, you idiot._

 _Than why'd he ask such a stupid question?_

 _I don't know? Common curtesy? Social awkwardness? A poor attempt at humor?_

 _ **Where'd the Joker go?**_

Mary nodded and tried to brace herself against the wall with her good arm.

She grunted in pain when the movement jarred her injured arm and sighed in relief when the bat actually helped her stand.

 _Oh look, he noticed._

She stood and backed away from him slightly once she was steady. _Fuck, this hurts._ "Where's stabby the clown gone?"

His jaw set even more than it already was and he looked straight ahead, cape swishing behind him. "The Joker has escaped."

She grimaced as she walked, every step hurting. "Damnit, Batsy, he always escapes. Eventually someone needs to put the creep out of our misery."

He said nothing.

 _ **Don't make him feel even worse, he probably already feels terrible.**_

 _So do I!_

 _Yeah, but if you hadn't jumped at the Joker, we would probably still have two functioning arms and Batsy could've gone after him._

 _Fuck, my arm hurts._

She hissed as she stumbled after him. _That foot is definitely getting infected. And I'm still cold._

 _Jesus Christ, Mary, quit your whining._

 _Knife! In! Shoulder!_

 _Your! Own! Fault!_

"A-and another thing! Can you tell these goddamn voices in my head to shut their f-freaking pie holes before I take this knife out of my arm and have us all-"

"Quiet."

She glared at him but had enough sense to stop talking.

 _Why am I here?_

 _ **Not this again.**_

 _Shut up! It is perfectly sensible to question the sudden appearance of myself in a fictional universe!_

 _Look, once we get to some place indoors and have some pants on, we can call the Stepfords and get an explanation._

 _Fine._

Batman stopped and Mary almost crashed into him. She hissed. "Little warning next time?"

"We're here."

Mary stumbled around him and looked up. _He walked me to a hospital._

 _ **Well, he wasn't gonna take you to his top secret batcave, was he?**_

 _Look, maybe I still had a little hope of living up to my namesake, alright?_

 _You make it sound so noble. We're talking about fanfiction._

 _Touché, I guess._

She didn't look at the Batman as she stumbled through the doors, the blood loss finally getting to her.


	2. Not right in the brain box

Marry woke up to the sounds of voices and beeping.

Annoying beeping.

A pleasantly high voice was speaking agitatedly. "No, Commissioner Gordon, for the third time, we do not know who she is. All we know is that she came in with a knife in her shoulder and collapsed on the floor."

A gruff, equally annoyed voice replied. "Nurse Drew, with all due respect, we got a tip that she was in an altercation with the Joker. We need to ask her some questions."

 _God, couldn't they argue somewhere else?_

 _They've been at it for over five minutes now._

 _How could you possibly know that? You're me!_

 _Dunno. Remember to ask the Stepfords that._

 _You do it._

 _We're the same person, stupid._

The first voice got louder. "She's been unconscious for three days and she'll probably be in shock when- if she wakes up! Do you really think she'll want to answer your questions?"

 _Three days?_

 _We lost a lot of blood._

 _I kept the knife in!_

 _A knife isn't the same thing as a tourniquet, you idiot._

"It isn't a matter of her wanting to, it's a matter of catching the Joker, once and for all."

 _Oh yeah. Stabby._

 ** _I hate that motherfucker._**

"Yes, of course; it isn't like he escapes every time your men-"

Mary cleared her throat painfully.

There was a brief silence before feet scurried over to her bedside. "Miss?"

Mary cracked her eyes open and then shut them again. "Bright."

"Yes, dear, but you need to open your eyes."

 _Ugh._

Mary forced her eyes open again and blinked at the blurry figures in front of her.

 _No glasses. Right._

The shorter figure, who Mary assumed was the nurse, fiddled around with the various machines Mary just realized she was hooked up to.

She tried to sit up and flinched.

 _Dumbass._

"Stay still or you'll pull your stitches."

Mary blinked slowly. "Stitches?"

"Yes, twelve for both cuts on your shoulder, three for the cut on your foot. The cut on your face wasn't deep so stitches were unnecessary, but it will scar. Any questions?"

Mary swallowed difficultly. "Water?"

The nurse scurried over to a dispenser and filled up a paper cup before bringing it over and helping Mary drink.

 _This is embarrassing._

 _Suck it up. At least you don't have a concussion._

 _I wonder if one of those would get rid of you._

 _Rude._

When Mary finished drinking she looked up at the nurse. "The knife went through my arm. Will I be able to use it again?"

The nurse looked at her in what she assumed was sympathy. "Eventually."

Gordon, who had thus far been stood awkwardly to the side, cleared his throat. "Miss, I am Commissioner James Gordon and-"

Nurse Drew gave him a look. "And he was just leaving."

"It's fine."

The two turned toward her.

Mary cleared her throat again and smiled slightly. "I'd like to talk to him, please."

The nurse was still unsure. "You've just woken up."

Mary looked in her direction decisively. "Better sooner than later."

The nurse assented and left the room.

Gordon walked toward her and sat on the chair by her hospital bed. "If it's alright, Miss..."

Mary looked toward him blankly.

 _Miss what?_

 _He wants your name, stupid._

 _Oh!_

"Mary. My name's Mary."

 _You sure we don't have a concussion?_

 _ **I mean, nursey didn't mention one.**_

The commissioner nodded. "Mary. Can you tell me what exactly happened on the night you were attacked?"

Mary nodded.

 _What should I tell him?_

 ** _The truth?_**

 _Of course, why didn't I think of that? 'Hey, Commissioner Gordon, I suddenly appeared in an alley in a fictional place and you are also fictional wow isn't this hospital-' wait, who's paying my hospital bill?_

 _We dunno, smartass, we're you!_

 _Ugh._

"Mary?"

Mary started. "Sorry, yeah. I woke up in an alley."

"Why were you in an alley?"

Mary tried to shrug and flinched in pain. "I dunno, Commissioner, but that's not really an important part of this story."

Gordon let it go. "Alright. And then what happened?"

Mary nodded slightly. "Right. So, I called my parents, cause you know, why the fuck am I -sorry- why the heck am I in an alley in the middle of the night on my seventeenth birthday? Speaking of, where's my phone and my hoodie?"

Gordon shifted slightly. "They had to be taken into the police station for investigation with the knife."

 _Are you fucking with me?_

 _ **Ew.**_

 _Goddamnit, Voice Number Three, I do not need that right now._

 _ **Sorry.**_

Mary sighed and looked toward the blurry ceiling. "Oh."

Gordon coughed. "Happy birthday, anyway."

Mary snorted. "Yeah. Thanks. Whatever."

There was a silence.

Mary continued. "So I'm talking to my parents, and I hear a voice that isn't theirs. So I turn around and lo and behold, the Joker was behind me. Can I have some more water?"

The commissioner stood up and got her another cup, waiting impatiently while she drank it.

She nodded at him in thanks once she finished and continued. "So, yeah, there's the Joker, right in front of me, being creepy, and who I will from now on only refer to as Stabby the Clown. Any objections before I continue?"

Gordon made a noise in his throat but didn't otherwise protest.

Therefore, Mary ignored it. "Good. So, there's Stabby, and he commented something like 'Uh, isn't that a shame, toots?' Because I was telling my parents that I can't see for shit- sorry- for poop. So I do what any normal person would do and hold up my finger for him to wait. He does, surprisingly. So I tell my parents I love them and hang up the phone-"

"You hung up the phone?"

"Yes, I just said that."

"Why didn't you call the police?"

 _Is he for real?_

 _Mary, no._

Mary looked in his direction sardonically. "No offense, Commissioner, cause you seem decent enough, but the cops in this city wouldn't go near crime alley unless they were going to commit a crime themselves. They come in to stop something, they get shot."

 _Plus, we would've had to hang up anyway to call the police._

 _Let's be as little of a smartass as we can right now._

 _Fine._

The commissioner was silent for a moment. "Why did he allow you to do that?"

Mary stared. "Do what?"

"Continue to talk to your parents."

Mary made a face. "Dunno. Probably cause he's a giant di- _penis_ and he wanted to make us all emotionally harrowed. Either way, he was real courteous about it. Turned around and everything."

 _ **You know, in hindsight, that whole encounter was actually pretty funny.**_

 _Tell that to my dead arm._

 _Your own fault._

 _Fuck off._

Gordon nodded for her to continue.

Mary nodded back. "Where was I? Right. I hung up, and then I sat on the ground."

Gordon made another noise in his throat but didn't comment.

Mary continued. "So Stabby just talks."

"What did he say?"

Mary tilted her head in place of a shrug. "Nothing important, just said he thought I would be interesting and that he's disappointed that I'm not. And then I got annoyed, so I asked him if it was because I wasn't wearing pants."

He choked.

Mary looked toward him in confusion. "Should I call the nursey?"

He sat up straight in his chair and looked at her in what she assumed was disapproval. "Mary, this is a very serious situation. I would appreciate it if you treated it as such."

Mary looked at him indifferently. "I'm not joking."

His face was still very blurry to her, but that didn't disguise the fact that it was progressively becoming a frankly alarming shade of red. "You, a teenaged girl, asked one of the most feared criminals in Gotham if the reason he found you interesting was because you _weren't wearing any pants?_ "

Her face didn't change. "Yes."

He seemed to be clenching his fists. "Are you out of your mind?"

 _ **Yep.**_

 _Definitely._

 _Fuck off._

"Probably. May i continue?"

He sighed and slumped back down into his chair. "Yes, go ahead."

She raised her eyebrows. "Thank you. As I was saying, I asked him if he found me interesting because I wasn't wearing pants. He giggled like a school child on meth, which only served to alarm and annoy me more. So I yelled at him a little."

He gave her a look.

She sighed. "Okay, I yelled at him a lot. He seemed to be enjoying himself up until I pushed my luck a little too far and pushed _him_ against the alley wall."

Mary couldn't see Commissioner Gordon's face, but she was fairly certain he was beginning to think she was a little bit not right in the brain box.

 _Beginning to?_

 _Yes. Why?_

 ** _I mean, you do hear voices in your head._**

 _Oh, you're still here. I was wondering where you'd gone._

 _ **Missed me?**_

 _No._

"So yeah, he didn't like that. I laughed to keep from screaming and crying in terror, he pushed me against the other wall. I called him Bozo, he called me Lovegood and cut open my arm."

 ** _It's because I'm fat, isn't it?_**

 _What?_

 _ **You don't like me because I'm fat!**_

 _No, I don't like you because you're an annoying voice in my head that offers nothing important to my narrative and is good for comic relief!_

"Lovegood?"

Mary blinked again and focused back on the conversation. "I made an agitated Harry Potter joke and he took it literally."

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "of course you did."

 _ **You take that back!**_

 _No!_

 _Guys..._

She continued. "So he cut a line in my arm and in my favorite sweatshirt, at which point I was so annoyed at that I stupidly tried to tackle him and ended up with a knife through my arm."

The commissioner stood up and something clattered to the floor. "You tackled the Joker?!"

 _The fuck was that?_

 _Who cares? Answer the question before he has an aneurism!_

 _ **And apologize to me while you're at it!**_

Mary squinted. "No. I _tried_ to tackle the Joker. Pay attention. If you keep interrupting me, we'll never get through this."

Gordon sat back down stiffly and Mary thought he nodded again, so she continued. "Right. Thank you. So there I am, with a knife in my shoulder and Stabby the psychopathic clown just cackling away in front of me, when none other than Batsy swoops down from the sky and scares the shi-crap outta me, and I assume _beat_ the crap outta Stabby."

"You assume?"

"Well, I stopped paying attention during that part. He obviously didn't beat him hard enough, because the clown escaped, but whatever. I'm assuming Batsy told you the rest?"

Gordon nodded a bit too eagerly. "Yes, he did."

 _No he didn't._

Mary rolled her eyes. "No he didn't."

Gordon stood up and straightened his jacket. "No, he didn't. But I think I have all the information I need. Thank you for your cooperation."

 _Cooperation? Who, me?_

 _...Hello?_

 _ **We're not talking to you until you apologize.**_

 _Well okay._

"You're welcome."

 ** _Wait, ask him who's paying for us to be here!_**

 _I thought you weren't talking to me._

 _ **Oh shit.**_

Mary rolled her eyes at her inner imaginary friends, but she still called after him when he was halfway toward the door. "Commissioner Gordon?"

He paused and turned toward her. "Yes, Mary?"

"Who's paying for my hospital bills?"

He relaxed. "The Thomas and Martha Wayne foundation picked up the tab, actually. Very generous of them, don't you think?"

Mary bit the inside of her cheek. "Yes. Thank you."

Gordon tipped his head toward her and then left.

As soon as he was gone, Nurse Drew was back and fussing. "I thought that man would never leave. Hardly a good cop in this city, but I suppose we should be grateful that he was one of the better ones. Are you tired? You should rest."

Mary nodded, drank the water the nurse gave her, and settled deeper into her pillows.

After a moment, the nurse left to check on another patient.

Mary bit her cheek and waited.

Nothing.

She shifted slightly to get more comfortable in her hospital bed.

Her head felt unnervingly empty.

She tried not to think and closed her eyes.

A moment passed.

She cracked. _Guys?_

No answer.

She tried again. _Voice Number Three?_

Nothing.

She sighed and pouted at the ceiling. ... _I'm sorry._

 _ **Well, finally! Do you know how boring the rest of your head is?**_

 _Hey!_

 _ **Don't even deny it! There's literally an entire section in here dedicated to whether Bounty really is a quicker picker upper than the current leading bargain brand.**_

 _I told you you should've gone to the left. There's this really weird dungeon thing-_

 _So you forgive me?_

 _ **I live in your head, I kinda have to. But more about this dun-**_

 _Kay great._

 _Oh my god, is that Han Solo? In a chain mail bikini?_

 _MOVING ON!_

 _ **HOLY SHIT, FOR REAL? I WANNA SEE!**_

 _NO YOU DON'T!_

 _ **Aww man.**_

 _Relax, Voice Number Three._

 _ **But-**_

 _I'll show you once she goes back to sleep._

 _ **YAY!**_

 _Why did I want you guys back again?_

 _ **I knew you missed us!**_

 _Ugh._

Mary sunk deeper into her pillows in annoyance and pouted.

A moment passed.

 _So. Wayne._

 _Yep._

 _You know you owe him doubly now._

Mary closed her eyes. _Yep._

 _Stabby's still on the loose._

 _Yes._

 _We don't have the phone anymore._

 _Nope._

 _And we still don't have pants on._

 _...Goddamnit._


End file.
